“That…sucked,” I eventually manage.

“It has been difficult,” the queen admits. “We were overjoyed to be blessed as a kingdom, but we soon realized it was not as we expected. Her presence here has been both joy and pain. With her here, our stores never run dry. They are magically replenished every evening and it allows us to feed all of the people who have fled here seeking safety from the Adassians.” She touches my arm. “But…she has drained three anchors already.”

I swallow hard, thinking of the hollow cheeks of the woman in the room with her. “She’s using her powers to replenish your stores.”

“Yes. Once we realized what she was doing, we asked her to stop but…she simply doesn’t care.” Halla’s lips purse. “Those that volunteer to serve as her anchor know it is a death sentence, but they do it out of love for her, and because she feeds the city.”

That is indeed a hairy, awful situation. “So what do you do?”

“We are trapped right now,” Halla admits, holding onto my arm as we go down the stairs. Her steps are slower, and she holds onto her belly, and then I feel guilty for making a pregnant woman waddle all over this enormous castle. “The sacrifice of a few loyal anchors allows thousands to be fed while Adassia lays siege. But…” Her voice trails off.

Yeah, I see what she means. Do they boot the goddess out of the city or do they let her keep draining anchors? If they force her to leave, will she be angry? If they withhold an anchor from her after she uses this one up, will she remember their cruelty once she ascends again?

It’s a no-win situation.

We return to the queen’s rooms, and I see a pair of men holding plans and discussing as they study the wall that hides the secret passage. I look at them curiously and Halla speaks. “We’re bricking it up so the enemy cannot use the passage against us. It has been sealed on the other side, the statue destroyed.”

“Ah.” I look at the little boy, playing near the skirts of his nursemaid. “What if you have to leave in a hurry?”

“That is not the only hidden passage out of the keep,” Halla admits with a tiny smile. “If we must run, there are many ways to go. But hopefully it will not be necessary now that Lord Aron fights on our side.” Her hand grips mine. “And if we work together, perhaps we will be able to bring things to a close sooner rather than later. The men like war, but all I want is to be able to raise my family in peace.”

I squeeze her fingers back, nervous at the intense look she gives me. She seems to think I know how to stop things? I can’t even get Magra to take a message written exclusively for her.

This world has shown me time and time again that I don’t matter. That I’m nothing in the scheme of things. I’m not the one brought here to bring forth change. It’s Aron and all the others…isn’t it?

You will meet your destiny on the plains of Yshrem.

Or was that a hint? Is there something else I should be doing?

I shake my head at Halla. “I wish I could do more. I’m just one person. I’m not super strong. I’m not super smart. I’m just an outsider who got caught up with Aron because no one else wanted his arrogant ass.”

“You’re brave,” she tells me simply. “Sometimes that’s all we need.”

The day is long as hell. I pace Halla’s rooms, trying to watch the battle going on below. Part of me wants to put on some armor and a helmet and join them, because then I’d at least be doing something, but I know the biggest thing I can do is stay safe so they have Aron at the front. So I eat, and pace, and play with baby Alistair. I chat with Halla. I stare at all of the books in the room that I can’t read as Halla pages through an old tome.

“What’s that about?” I ask at one point.

“It’s a recording of the last Anticipation,” she says. “Six hundred years ago.” She gestures at one page with a delicate hand. “Recordings of sightings of gods, who fought alongside who, and for how long it went on.”

“How long did it go on?”

“Ten years.” She grimaces. “Let us pray that is not the case this time.”

“Yeah,” I say faintly. Ten years with Aron would be amazing. Not enough, but still amazing. I think of what the Spidae said, how I’m not getting out of this alive. It could be a lie. I feign idle curiosity. “Does it say what happened to the anchors of the gods that won? The last ones left standing?”

She shakes her head. “The anchors are rarely mentioned by name.”

“Of course not,” I say sarcastically. “Why would we be important, right?” Just to my Aron.

Only to my Aron.

The men return at dusk, dirty, sweaty, and covered in shallow wounds. The queen panics at the sight of her husband sporting a broken arrow out of one large shoulder. Aron’s riddled with them, but he’s also invulnerable. It’s clear the king’s in some pain, and the queen insists in him going to the healer. Another clerist offers to help Aron out, but he only wants me and a hot bath.

“How was it?” I ask as we go up the stairs to our room, Kerren following close behind.

The smile on Aron’s face is pleased. “Glorious. It was an intense battle. Neither side gained much ground from the other. I am well pleased with the Cyclopae army.”

“No ground gained?” I ask, dismayed. “None at all?”

“Patience, my Faith. Battle will decide all things.”

I help him bathe and remove the arrows from his chest, neck and back. His wounds close up the moment the arrows are plucked free, and he’s in good spirits as he bathes. He’s practically fucking cheerful.

“Once you’re off to bed, I’ll rejoin the men,” he says as he towels off, a hot look in his eyes. It’s the look that promises some hot lovin’, because post-battle Aron is clearly a randy Aron.

“Rejoin the men? Why?”

“They are burning the dead,” he says. “I would give them an honorable send-off on their journey to the afterlife since they died in my name.”

I bite my lip as Aron takes my hand and pulls me to bed. He drags me against him and cups my breast, teasing the nipple even as he kisses my neck. His touch feels good, amazing, really, but I can’t stop thinking about his words. “How…how many men died?” I ask, trying to bite back a whimper when his mouth goes to my breast.

“A hundred, maybe more,” he murmurs, then licks my nipple.

A hundred? In just one day? Just to run up against the brick wall that is the opposing army? “Aron, maybe there’s another way—”

“I am the god of battle,” he says, pushing me onto my back on the bed. His big hand goes to my pussy, and he strokes it with his fingers. Even though I want to talk more about war, he’s far too good at distractions. “The men will spend eternity at my side. They will be rewarded. Now, let me touch my anchor.”

And he lowers his mouth to my belly, completely distracting me.

We make love twice before Aron tenderly washes me and gives me a kiss. “Sleep,” he murmurs, caressing my face. “I will wake you up when I return.”

For more sex, most likely. I can’t even be mad—I crave his touch like a junkie. But even after he leaves, I can’t stop thinking about the battle.

A hundred men gone in one day. For nothing. I think of the pinched look that came over Halla’s face as the king showed up with a wounded arm…and I’m starting to see why she’s so worried. How many people will die to gain a few feet of ground across the river? That still doesn’t get us Hedonism Aron’s anchor. It just gets us a toehold closer.

There’s got to be a better way.

OceanofPDF.com

77

“You see what I mean,” Halla says in a fretful voice the next day as we sit in her library. “I have tried to beg Mathior not to go out, not to fight such senseless battles, but it is in their very nature. Everything they believe is that battle is glorious and honorable. To die fighting in Aron’s name? To die for him? There is no greater glory. But…we are getting nowhere and every day, more men die.” She shakes her head, her hands trembling as she turns another page of the book. “Every day, it is the same.”